


Ecdysiast

by inlovewithnight



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Incest, Latex, M/M, internalized kink shame
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-01
Updated: 2012-03-01
Packaged: 2017-10-31 23:25:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/349488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inlovewithnight/pseuds/inlovewithnight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>from Ancient Greek: ἐκδύω – ekduo – to take off, strip off</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ecdysiast

**Author's Note:**

> This is all because of that Allan Amato photoshoot.

Gerard grins and laughs when he tries on the jacket, turning back and forth in front of the mirror. "That's fucking clever, Allan. A take on Mr. Fantastic, yeah. Stretchy clothes, non-stretchy body." He tugs the jacket away from himself and let sit snap back, then laughs again. "Fucking sweet. My hair's all wrong, though, right, Mikey?"

"It's an interpretation," Mikey says, hoping his voice sounds normal, his eyes fixed on the way the jacket stretches across Gerard's shoulder, how it moves with the muscles and bones. "You're not a supergenius anyway."

"Fuck off."

"Put a quarter in the swear jar."

Gerard flips him off and bounces after Allan to the backdrop, tilting his head back and forth to get a sense of the lights. Mikey drops onto a stool and takes a breath.

The jacket flexes around Gerard's shoulders when he turns and poses. It's distracting.

**

"That was fun." Gerard lights his cigarette and sucks air in deeply, squinting over the roof of the car at Mikey. "You had fun?"

Mikey shrugs and drums his fingers against the passenger-side window. He wants to go home, shower the makeup off, jerk off before Alicia gets home. The no-smoking-in-the-car rule is holding up his whole day.

"Wasn't that jacket awesome? Latex, man." Gerard takes another drag and exhales it through his teeth. "There are some kinky motherfuckers out there for latex."

Mikey blinks, breathes, doesn't answer, just shoots a glance over the car.

Gerard stares at him for a minute, the cigarette flaring bright as he taps it against his thumb to ash it. "Oh. It's like that, huh?"

"It's not like anything."

"Kinky motherfucker." Gerard inhales again, closing his eyes and holding it, then drops the cigarette to the asphalt and grinds it out under his heel. "Interesting."

He climbs into the car and starts the engine, and Mikey rolls his eyes up at the heavens, because fucking-A, now this is going to be a _thing_.

**

There are websites, of course, for which it is also a thing.

"So this one," Gerard says, shoving his laptop in Mikey's face, "has a wide variety of colors, including metallics."

Mikey keeps his voice as even as he can, and his eyes fixed on Gerard's, not the screen. "I don't care."

"Silver metallic would be awesome. Like being a robot."

"A robot from the 1950s."

Gerard shrugs and pushes the computer at his face again. "Retro is very hot right now."

"Gerard."

"But I'm thinking the shiny metallic black. Cater to your Batman fetish. And your Catwoman fetish, for that matter."

"Stop it."

Gerard blinks at him, his eyes wide, his mouth doing that twitch to the side it does when he's being earnest. "You know I'm serious, right? I'm not making fun of you. I wouldn't make fun of you about something like this."

**

According to the instructions with the can, the liquid latex can be painted on using fingers, a roller, or a foam-rubber brush. "I've got every kind of brush in the world," Gerard says, leaning over Mikey's shoulder to read along. "I think you should use a bristle brush. More sensation."

"The point is to muffle sensations," Mikey says, and immediately wishes he hadn't, because Gerard giggles with glee and punches him in the kidney.

"You've been doing research! Awesome." 

"I had to make sure I wasn't going to accidentally suffocate you or something."

"Accidentally, nothing." Gerard steps back and strips off his hoodie, then his t-shirt. Mikey catches his breath at the sight of Gerad's skin, pale and perfectly smooth. The instructions say to shave or wax. Apparently Gerard read ahead when the shipment arrived. "If you ever suffocate me, I know it'll be on purpose, Mikes."

He sheds his jeans next, and his legs are hairless, too, bare to the ankle. He's wearing a tiny pair of black bikini-briefs, made of something a little bit shiny--Spandex, probably, Mikey assumes--and he's fucking _tucked_ , his dick back between his legs like it's no big deal, like Mikey's entitled to as smooth a canvas as possible, all the way down.

"Now I'm supposed to oil myself up so it comes off easier later," Gerard says. "I'll take care of that, you open up the jars and stir it, okay? And get the brushes. Foam-rubber is in the top drawer."

Mikey does as he's told, watching from the corner of his eye as Gerard runs his hands over his body, putting a thin layer of shimmer over his skin. 

"Not my face," Gerard says, capping the oil and setting it aside. "Next time I'll plan ahead and buzz my hair first. I bet this shit is murder if you get it in your hair."

"You look demented when you buzz your hair," Mikey reminds him, dipping the brush into the latex and staring at it. "You're sure? This isn't weird?"

"It's completely fucking weird. And awesome. Put it on me."

Mikey takes a breath and runs the brush down Gerard's stomach, leaving a stripe of black behind. Gerard gasps a little, then laughs.

"Okay?" Mikey asks, dipping the brush again, studying the wet shine on Gerard's skin. He wonders what it'll look like when it starts to dry.

"It's cold. But yeah. It's fine. Keep going." 

Mikey paints Gerard's torso, front and back, drawing the latex carefully down to the waistband of Gerard's briefs. Gerard tells him he can be messy, get it all over the fabric, it doesn't matter, but he tries to be careful anyway. He wants the visual to be smooth, uninterrupted. He has an image in his head and he wants it to be _perfect_.

For Gerard's arms and legs, he finds some of the gloves Gerard and Lindsey keep around for when they dye their hair, then dips his hands directly in the jars, coating Gerard's skin by running his hands up and down his limbs. 

"That's better," Gerard says. "Warmer." His eyes are closed, his teeth worrying at his lower lip while Mikey works. When he speaks, his voice is a lower than usual, just a little rougher. "What do you like about this?"

"I don't know." Mikey curves his hand around the back of Gerard's knee, making sure the latex coats as evenly as he can get it.

"You do know. Tell me. It's not really the Catwoman thing, I know."

Mikey sighs, keeping his head down while he dips his hands again. "I'm picturing what you're going to look like when it dries."

"I'm going to look really fucking silly."

"No." Mikey shakes his head and wipes the latex up the back of Gerard's thigh. "You're going to look smooth and perfect and...and it's a second skin, right? A second skin everywhere, and when I touch you it'll feel..."

Gerard waits, his breath hitching, but Mikey doesn't go on. "It'll feel what?"

Mikey clicks his tongue against his teeth, still not looking up. "Different."

"Adjectives are not your strong point."

Mikey shifts back onto his heels, finally looking up at Gerard. "There will be this thing between me and you."

Gerard's brow furrows a bit, and he nods.

"And then I will peel it off you. Slowly. I'll strip it away." He forces himself to take a breath and lick his lips, still looking into Gerard's eyes. "Like I'm peeling off your skin. Getting inside you."

Gerard's eyes widen and he exhales shakily. "Oh."

They stare at each other for a moment, their breath the only sound in the room, the latex slowly drying on Gerard's skin and Mikey's gloves. Mikey knows Gerard gets it. They watched the same movies growing up, horror in all its flavors. Body-horror and obsession and craving and the truth that lives under the skin, where you can only get at it if you claw the outside away.

"That is so fucking hot," Gerard whispers.

Mikey laughs, a half-choked sound, and strips off his gloves, dropping them to the floor before he twists the top back onto the jar. "Now we have to let you dry."

"What should we do while that happens?"

Mikey studies him for a minute, how he's standing with his arms carefully away from his sides, fingers twitching slightly, eyes bright and hopeful. "You want a cigarette, don't you?"

"I really, really do."

Mikey gets to his feet, pressing the heel of his hand lightly against the base of his dick to remind himself to wait. Easing the tension off again for a few minutes will be good, really. Make things even sweeter when they come. 

**

Gerard smokes two cigarettes and delivers a lengthy monologue on Lindsey's plans for her next papercraft exhibit before they decide the latex must be dry. Mikey walks around him in a slow circle, studying the play of light off Gerard's second skin, the way it highlights the lines of his body, how he can tell where it tightened the most as it dried by the way Gerard holds himself.

"Is it what you had in mind?" Gerard asks, looking over his shoulder at Mikey. Mikey nods and runs his finger down Gerard's spine, wondering at the feel of the latex, the changes in texture where the brush strokes overlapped.

"How does it feel to you?" he asks, circling in front of Gerard again and tracing the line where he stopped painting and the latex meets the skin of his throat.

"Good. Tight. It's warm, now." Gerard turns his palms up and down, studying the way the motion looks on his arms. "I feel really naked."

"Not quite." Mikey brushes the front of Gerard's briefs, keeping his touch as light as he can. Gerard's eyelids flutter and his teeth sink into his lower lip, anyway. "You want me to..."

Gerard nods and Mikey kneels, carefully hooking his fingers into the waistband. He starts to tug the briefs down and then stops as he realizes that he'd been less careful applying the latex with his hands than with the brush. The edges of the leg openings are well and truly bonded to the stuff in a few places, and when he pulls the briefs down, it comes with them in stripes.

Gerard gasps. "Oh, fuck. Don't...I mean, keep doing that. Don't stop."

"Why?" Mikey runs his finger over one of the stripes of bared skin. Gerard shivers under the touch, and Mikey immediately gets it, retracting the question with a quick smile. Contrast. Sensitivity. Right.

He pulls the briefs down the rest of the way, helps Gerard step out of them, then tosses them aside. The layering and unevenness of how he applied the latex means that it didn't come off in clean stripes all the way down--to Gerard's knee in one place, otherwise in uneven strips no lower than mid-thigh, but there's more than enough skin to pay attention to. He kisses it, licks it, drags his nails down it, measuring how well he's doing in Gerard's little gasps and moans, and in the response of Gerard's dick, now free and startlingly pale between his thighs.

" _Jesus_ ," Gerard pants finally, tugging at Mikey's hair. "More. Do something."

Mikey digs his fingernails into Gerard's left thigh, scratching through to the skin and then jerking his hand down, peeling the latex down roughly. Clawing it away like a big cat, some part of his brain thinks, and that goes straight to his dick, lighting up the scoreboard all the way across. Fuck. He wasn't kidding, what he told Gerard before. The fantasy of this is tied into fucked-up shit, things he wants that he shouldn't, clawing his way under Gerard's skin and into his body, getting under the surface where they'll never be apart again.

"Do something," Gerard repeats, and Mikey shakes his head, sliding his hands up and around to palm Gerard's ass while he takes him in his mouth.

Sucking Gerard off is always good; he's just thick enough to stretch the edges of Mikey's mouth with a pleasurable sting. Usually Mikey has to be careful, keeping his hands flat against Gerard's ass and his thighs, being careful only to grip, not to scratch. Gerard doesn't like scratching, doesn't like welts or broken skin. Having the layer of latex in place to take the punishment means Mikey can fucking maul him. He can dig in and hang on and it doesn't hurt at all.

Mikey pulls off and scrambles to his feet, grabbing Gerard's forearms and guiding him back, steering him across the room until he pushes him against the wall. He's pressed up against Gerard full-length, feeling his skin warm but not human against him, too smooth and just not _quite_ real. Just alien enough. It's driving him fucking crazy. He pins Gerard's wrists, nails scratching into the latex there, too, and he gets Gerard's thigh between his so he can rub on him, grind off like a manic while they kiss over and over again.

"Fuck," Gerard gasps, his head thumping back against the wall. Mikey groans in protest at losing his mouth, and turns his attention to Gerard's neck, instead. He kisses down the line of Gerard's throat, pale and perfect, only giving in to the urge to bite when he reaches where the latex coats his collarbone.

" _Fuck_ ," Gerard repeats, rougher and higher-pitched. "God. Touch me."

Mikey knows what he means--jerk him off, let him come--but he doesn't want that yet. Release carries an assumption of the end. He grinds against Gerard's thigh again and then steps back, setting his fingers at the uneven line along Gerard's throat. He hooks his nails in it and drags down again, breath loud and hiccuping, his fucked-up little fantasy as close as it can get.

Gerard's watching him, pupils blown, face red and shiny with sweat. "Yeah," he whispers as Mikey presses up to him again, hands running up and down his torso over the newly-bared skin. "God, you're fucking hot like this. It's okay. It's--"

Mikey kisses him again, swallowing the cry he makes as Mikey drops his hand and squeezes Gerard's dick. _Mine_ , he thinks, _mine, inside and out, no matter what._

Gerard comes on him, hot and messy, and Mikey slumps against him, trying to catch his breath. His own dick is still hard and aching in his jeans. "If I'm bad at adjectives, you're bad at timing," he mutters against Gerard's neck. "Fuck."

"I know." Gerard's hand settles between Mikey's shoulder blades, rubbing gentle circles. Mikey closes his eyes and lets himself feel it. Soothing, understanding. Gerard doesn't care if he's fucked-up. He never has.

"I love you," Gerard murmurs, close against his ear, and Mikey nods, dragging in a deep breath.

"I love you too, Gee."

"Help me get the rest of this off, huh?" Gerard kisses his cheek. "All of it. Make me myself again. Back to reality."

Mikey nods, stepping back and dragging his hand through his hair, fighting the heat he knows is bright in his face and the sting in his eyes.

Gerard catches his wrist. "Next time I'll have better timing. And I'll know what I need to do better."

"Next time?"

"Duh." Gerard grins at him and guides Mikey's hand back to the torn latex on his chest. "I ordered like ten gallons of that shit. Next time, I'm cosplaying Dr. Manhattan."

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] Ecdysiast](https://archiveofourown.org/works/635810) by [thriceandonce (sylvaine)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sylvaine/pseuds/thriceandonce)




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